By TANYA EISERER / Abilene Reporter-News'Pop's' family: Four homeless individuals band together to better their lives.
By TANYA EISERER / Abilene Reporter-News
Photo by Gerald Ewing
To Pops, Sherry, Jose and J.D., a run-down one-bedroom white frame house in north Abilene is home.
All four lived on the streets for years until about a month ago when they banded together to become a "family."
Ray Crabtree, affectionately known as "Pops," rented the small house with his income from Social Security after returning from a three-year stint in Fort Worth where he lived in a tent on the Trinity River.
Crabtree soon located his friends Jose Castro and Sherry Parker, who introduced him to J.D. West. He asked all three to move in with him in early March.
"We all hooked up with Dad," Parker said. "He said, 'You guys don't need to be living in a van. Come live with me.' "
Though the tiny house has a bad roof, poor wiring and peeling paint, the four consider it a gift from God.
"I was on the streets, and then God blessed me with this house," explained Crabtree, 69, as he expertly rolled a cigarette.
Having their own home has given them a new pride in themselves and their surroundings.
"When we come home, nobody says 'Fellas, you're on private property.' This is our house," West said.
And they haven't been drinking as much.
"We've got to get off the alcohol," Crabtree said. "There's too many people trying to help us. If we're drinking a lot, they're not going to want to help us. I've come a long way since I came out of Hobo Jungle, and I've got a long way to go."
Parker said, "It's knowing we got bills to pay. We've got a reason not to (drink). When you're on the streets, drinking relieves the boredom.
"Now, we ain't got the time."
Turns nobody away
Crabtree, who hails from Louisiana and North Carolina, once owned a trucking business and bootlegged moonshine. He even boxed professionally, he said.
"These hands are registered as a deadly weapon," he said, chuckling.
Crabtree rode the trains for many years after his divorce in the late 1970s and landed in Abilene in 1987.
The elderly hobo, who has spoken to classes at Abilene Christian University about being homeless, built a plywood shack in Hobo Jungle in the late 1980s. The homeless village is located just south of the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Bridge across the railroad tracks.
"When I built that shack, I didn't turn nobody away," Crabtree said, explaining it was a "welcome" camp for anybody needing help.
"I may not have much, but I try to share what I got."
Parker first met Crabtree about six years ago. She was on her way to California with practically nothing but the shirt on her back.
"I said, 'My name's Sherry. He said, 'My name's Ray. I'm the King of the Jungle,' " she recalled.
On that day, Crabtree allowed her to come into his shack and take a nap. They've been friends ever since, though they lost touch for about three years.
"Pops has always been all right," said Castro, who met Crabtree several years ago when they worked together chopping firewood. "Pops is my Dad."
Setting up house
Over the last few weeks, they've acquired an old stove, a refrigerator and other treasured items for their house.
"We don't want to live in a pig pen," Castro said. "We're tired of that."
They've also busied themselves with repairing the wooden fence, mowing the lawn and pulling up weeds.
"We all take turns with the chores," Parker explained.
Piles of items they found while digging for aluminum cans in trash receptacles also litter the house.
"I found a vacuum cleaner," Crabtree said. "I had to patch it up, but it works like a charm."
With a wide grin, Crabtree proudly showed a John Wayne picture he found in a trash container not long ago.
"Can you believe somebody would throw this away?" he said. "John Wayne is my hero."
Somebody gave them a broken lawnmower, which they fixed. They plan to mow lawns to supplement the money they earn by collecting cans.
"We all were homeless, and we're all just trying to make it. This
is the safest haven I've had in a long time," Parker said.